


Restless

by Hermaline75



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Incest, King Thor, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11126175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: Loki is summoned in the night.It's not what he thinks.





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> I am melancholy. Not sure why. Have some angsty fluff.
> 
> What universe is this set in? I don't know. Vaguely future, when all the Infinity Stone nonsense is over but the aftermath is still causing headaches.

"The king requires your presence."

Loki groaned softly. It was the middle of the night. What in the nine could he want at this hour?

Oh... Of course.

"I attended the undressing ceremony as always."

And as always, his blood had almost boiled to see Thor's current favourites approaching him to remove his cloak and vanbraces, his shirt, even his shoes and breeches and socks. All the stupid rules and pomp around it, like Thor was unable to undo a button by himself, or peel his own way out of his armour. Ridiculous. And they all fawned around him, hoping to be granted the honour of removing an item.

"All the same. He requires you."

There was no real point in resisting. What Thor wanted, Thor got. It was the way of the world.

"Then he can wait while I make myself decent."

It was one of the few powers he had, to make Thor attend on him from time to time, to make him pace and be denied, even if only for a little while.

Shirt and belt and boots... He knew what Thor wanted and had no intention of making it easy on him. He ought to be grateful that Loki didn't put on his full regalia, helmet and all.

He disliked being chaperoned around the palace too. He knew where Thor's chambers were. He did not require help to find them. And he certainly didn't need to be announced to Thor in formal terms after being summoned. Who else was it going to be?

Thor was wearing his light sleep trousers and nothing else, gazing pensively out at the sleeping city. It was a clear, cool night, the drapes moving gently in the breeze, candles sputtering just a little.

"Leave us," Thor said, voice low and heavy.

The doors closed with a thud and they were alone. Loki stood all of two steps inside the room and waited. He certainly wasn't going to make the first move. Or so much as make a noise.

Thor sighed heavily and finally turned round. He was looking older these days, tired, even his skin and hair growing a little dull. Loki might pity him if he wasn't so entitled about everything.

"Loki."

"Of course. You summoned me after all."

"Only because you never come here of your own accord anymore."

"Well... I try not to go where I might not be wanted."

Was that cruel? Thor's face certainly creased, crumpled slightly, hurt. Loki kept his as a careful, staged image of complete serenity. Boredom, almost.

"What is it you wanted?" he asked. "And please do not tell me my king is lonesome."

Thor turned away again, looking down at the floor, his feet leaving humid marks on the flagstones. He'd always had too much body heat for one person.

"Please don't call me that. Not you."

"Why shouldn't I? Is it not what you are?"

"I am your brother."

"We haven't been brotherly for centuries and you know it," Loki said, heading for the bed. "We both know why I'm here. Why don't you get on with it?"

Thor's bed was wonderful. Huge and soft, piled high with pillows and throws, thick damask drapes in the winter but lighter gauze ones now. It pleased Loki to defile such a wonderful thing from time to time, to leave his mark upon it. Maybe he'd try to rip something tonight...

"That's not..." Thor stammered. "I didn't ask you to come here for that."

"You didn't ask at all. You commanded."

No response. He'd hit a nerve.

"Why did you call for me then?" Loki tried, giving a little ground and sitting up. "I do hope you didn't get me out of bed for nothing."

He watched Thor's shoulders rise and fall as he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, scrubbing at his face. Shaking his head. Sighing again.

"I wanted to see you," he finally said, so quietly it almost wasn't audible.

"You'll have to look at me to see me."

Doleful eyes turned upon him, the very picture of misery. Loki felt his hackles rise automatically. How dare he? Did he not know how lucky he was? How easy life was for him? How many would gladly take the responsibility of ruling from him, Loki first in line?

No. He only felt his burden and believed it a heavy one and relied on Loki to help carry it along with his own.

It wasn't fair, but then again, it never had been.

"I can't sleep."

Loki frowned lightly.

"Have you tried lying down in the dark?"

"I don't just mean tonight. I can't sleep, Loki. It's been days."

Alright, that was a little concerning. That sounded like illness. The king could not be ill, certainly could not be seen to be so. No matter how insulted he felt, no matter how his old rebellious nature called to him, there were some things that required him to put his own wants aside.

A hard but necessary lesson.

"Come here."

Thor seemed unwilling, or at least suspicious, approaching with heavy, slow steps, sitting on the edge of the bed stiffly. He even flinched when Loki moved behind him, gently laying a hand upon his shoulder.

"You do seem tense," he said, losing any hint of antagonism in his voice. "Lie on your stomach. Maybe I can help a little."

Every time, he swore he wouldn't bend to Thor's will and every time his heart melted too quickly, like a candle spilling wax. And Thor was still hurt, lying down with his eyes closed below the hint of a frown. He would have to tread carefully.

Lotion... Or salve would do. Loki went to Thor's shelves, trying not to rattle too loudly as he found something suitable, a thick cream. It smelled soft, like the first buds of spring, the kind of scent that would find its way into his nostrils and stay there for days.

Thor grunted as Loki straddled his back, beginning with dry hands, long, slow passes with the heel of his palms. Knots and tight muscles. Like he was poised to leap into battle immediately.

"What's happened to worry you so?"

There was a long pause before Thor replied, mumbling it out.

"Nothing I do is right," he said. "I cannot do everything that I would want, and so I try to find alternative paths, but every moment I delay decisions makes things worse. And then I lie awake through the night, unable to make my thoughts stop racing."

"And sleeplessness further impedes your mind."

He opened the little jar of salve, rubbing a portion between his palms to warm it at least a little before smoothing it onto Thor's back.

"I just want things to be simple," Thor murmured. "But being told something is simple is nearly always a lie. And then I doubt who I can trust. Whether they intend to trick me for their own advantage."

"It's wise to be cautious."

"Mistrust exhausts me. I wish everyone was like you."

"In what way?"

"Ready to speak plainly to me."

Loki chuckled in spite of himself.

"I do have a few thousand years' worth of practice, to be fair. Besides, you would never punish me for my sharp tongue. Nothing I wouldn't enjoy anyway."

"I value your tongue immensely."

"Mm, I know."

"I am being serious. I know you doubt it sometimes, but I need your insight. And I value it."

And sometimes that was enough for Loki. Sometimes, not always. But he could never quite forget the gulf between them, the accident of birth that meant Thor could summon him at any time of day or night, could value his words but disregard them with a wave of his hand.

But then again, Thor was still himself. Still the openhearted boy he had always been. Still as loving and affectionate as ever.

He was relaxing under Loki's hands, his breathing growing steady, the lines and shadows of his face in sharp relief.

"I miss you," he said. "I wish we had more time..."

"Don't. You'll only upset yourself. You'll start talking about if only we had been born as ordinary people. If only there was not so much to do. If only there were more hours in the day. You forget the only reason blind eyes are turned is because of who we are."

It was true. They ought to have been banished years ago, but Thor was hardly likely to banish himself.

"Come back to me?"

"What?"

"I want things to be as they were before. Even just for a few moments from time to time. So I can pretend I have no worries. Do you remember those days?"

"Barely."

Days with no worries? Loki always remembered worrying. Worrying that he felt too much, or didn't feel enough. Worrying for his health, or worse, worrying about everyone else's. Worrying that kingship would change Thor. Worrying that he would change without realising it.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Loki tried, determined to stay out of his own head for the moment.

"You are helping me. Just you being here helps me. But... I'd like it if you were here more often. If we could spend more time together in the evenings. Just relaxing. Nothing... Nothing more than that. Or at least not always."

That did sound nice. Perhaps he'd been too quick to judge, too quick to assume that Thor only appreciated him physically these days. They enjoyed one another's company. They ought to indulge in it more often.

They'd grown apart over recent months.

And here was where he was supposed to say he'd missed Thor too, that he wanted more brotherly time, that, yes, they ought to discuss more things just the two of them, outside of formal spaces.

His tongue was as treacherous as ever, refusing to just say it. His feelings always had to be guarded. Had to be kept safe and hidden.

He swept Thor's hair to the side and laid a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck. A tiny gesture. But hopefully one Thor would understand.

"Stop talking, Thor. You'll keep yourself awake."

"Hmm. I like you saying my name. No one says it anymore. I miss it. I miss when I had a name instead of a role."

"I promise to use it more often. Now hush. Breathe for me."

Who else did the king obey? Who else did he allow to see him vulnerable and afraid? Who else did he trust like this?

Loki kept rubbing, carefully and steadily working his shoulders and back, humming gently to give Thor something to focus on. He disliked silence. Said it made him think too much. In their younger days, he would make it rain at night whenever he had a bad day, relying on the soft sound of it to ease him to sleep. But now that would reveal his emotions far too readily so he denied himself such comforts.

Gradually, he visibly relaxed. The frown vanished. His lips parted. His fingers clutched at the sheet from time to time.

Sleeping at last. Loki smiled down at him and moved as gently as possible, laying the blanket over Thor's back and blowing out the candles, latching the window.

He could let the bitterness build up, the hurt and the ache, but it slipped through his fingers like sand when he looked at his brother finally resting peacefully, helped by him. Proof that he was the only one Thor truly trusted despite the past and all the hurt there had been between them over the years. His heart was too full to let all that in, even if just for a few moments.

He wondered if Thor knew how much he loved him.

Maybe that was one of the few things he didn't worry about.

Loki walked silently back to his own rooms, vowing to surprise Thor with a visit sooner rather than later.

Maybe tomorrow night.


End file.
